Hermione's Pickle
by purrpickle
Summary: Hermione's trapped in an ...interesting... prison, and only her True Love can get her out! Hermione/Ginny fluff with some angst thrown in.
1. The Moment of Truth

            Okay, I don't know exactly what made me write this fic, but it just…sort of…came to me. Anyway, I don't know how you would classify this fic…Probably fluff. Ah…who knows? ^_^ Anyway, please enjoy, and YES, it IS Hermione/Ginny, so if you don't like that, just click the convenient back button. That's what it's for, after all! Hope you like, and please r/r. Thanks! ^_^

Hermione's Pickle

By

Utena_Anthy_Antics

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            Hermione was in a pickle. And it wasn't the kind of pickle one usually used as a metaphor. She was literally trapped inside a pickle. No, she wasn't turned into one; she was imbedded in the center of the pickle Neville had been trying to change into a flower. She could even see the warts that sprouted in the green film she stared out of. 

            Her precious bubble of air was gradually getting smaller and smaller, but she couldn't do anything about it as, unfortunately, her wand hadn't survived the journey. It was wrenched at her side, poking her and annoying her crazily. It also didn't help that the left side of her face was smashed into the pulpy wall, and her arm was starting to cramp where it was situated between her and the pickled cucumber. Her legs were bent only slightly less than they would normally be if she was in a fetal position, but she could feel the brine start to seep into her clothes.

            "GET ME OUT OF HERE!!" she yelled as loud as she could, beating against the pickle with her right fist. She didn't have time to grimace as the wall slurped at her fist and a giant seed fell onto her head. Hermione had one mission, and that was to get OUT!!! And she didn't care the method.

            Squinting her eye, she could barely see Neville's disbelieving stare as he looked at the pickle on his desk.

            "Uhm… Professor McGonagall," he stuttered, "I think there's something in my pickle."

            "That's impossible!" the Transfiguration teacher scoffed, walking over and peering down at the offended pickle.

            "But it's true!" Neville protested, right as Hermione hammered the walls again, yelling. 

            Out of desperation, she started eating the section of pickle near her mouth to get space to open her mouth and breathe brine-free air. "IT'S ME!" she hollered, "DAMN YOU, NEVILLE! PROFESSOR McGONAGALL, GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

            Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, and she took a step back. "Good gods, Neville. What did you do? Miss Granger's in there!"

            "Hermione? Hermione's in there!?"

            "YES YOU IDIOT! NOW GET ME OUT BEFORE I SUFFICATE!!" She didn't have any choice but to repeat herself.

            Hermione slowly floated in and out of anger and fear. Fear as her air supply ran steadily out, and anger as she was jumbled and jostled by the exchange of many hands. "HEY, I CAN FEEL EVERYTHING, YOU KNOW!" she yelled out, exasperated, her voice growing hoarse by the many times she had yelled to be heard through the walls of her smelly prison.

            Pickle dripped into her eye, and she shut it, wincing as her eye stung. "Damnit," she muttered, her breathing speeding up, "I hope my True Love comes quickly; I'm about to die now." Wedging her shoulders into the slimy wall behind her, she lolled her head back and tried to regulate her breathing, not caring that someone almost dropped her. She idly dug into the wall, the dent she had made so depressingly small (she had quickly tired of trying to eat her way out). A tremor rocked the pickle, and her stomach curled, hopeless tears coming to her eyes.

            "It's no use," she moaned, "For all I know, my True Love doesn't even exist. Who could love the Bookworm-Mud-Blood Hermione Granger?" 

            For you see, the only way to get the imprisoned Hermione out of the pickle was to find her True Love. Hermione was not in any relationships, nor had she expressed any interest in anyone at Hogwarts, and even the two obvious candidates – Harry and Ron – had resulted in no freedom. Professor McGonagall had even hunted down Draco Malfoy, but no such luck there. Hermione, herself, had no ideas.

            It was driving Hermione sick, the waiting. Her lungs were beginning to burn, and her head was starting to spin. The smell of brine overwhelmed her, and all she wanted to do was sleep. Aware that that meant her air was rapidly depleting, Hermione rested her head on the wall and sardonically smiled to herself. "So this is how I'm going to die, huh?" she mused to herself, her eyelids too heavy to keep open anymore. 

            She slipped into dozing right as someone grabbed the pickle, and she heard a soft voice mutter, "Well, here goes."

(Three minutes earlier)

            "Hey, what's going on?" Ginny pushed herself through the crowd to where Ron and Harry stood. Ron glanced at her and pointed to where Neville stood sniffling, staring down at a pickle on his desk.

            "Neville accidentally trapped Hermione inside that pickle, and no one can get her out. Her air's running out, and it may be too late to save her."

            "Yeah, and we still haven't found the person that can kiss the pickle to get her out," Harry said, looking forlornly at his best friend's prison.

            Gazing up at her brother's white face, Ginny scoffed and pushed forward, shaking her head. "Boys," she muttered, "Don't send them to do a woman's job." 

            Approaching Neville, she got there just as Malfoy spluttered, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Why don't you just eat her – it might rid the world of one more Mud-Blood!" he spat as he went off with his henchmen to get out of the line.

            "You're just saying that because you didn't save her, Malfoy," Ginny retorted, stomping up to Neville and snatching the pickle containing her friend in it. "Well, here goes," she muttered, shrugging her shoulders.

            "Wait! Ginny! Only her True Love can-!!" Ron's voice drowned out as her lips skimmed against warty vegetable.

            With a BANG, Hermione suddenly sagged in the startled girl's arms. She was covered with brine and seeds, strings of pickle webbing across her robes and matting her hair. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she smiled slightly. Whispering faintly, she delivered one line of speech before fainting with the lack of air, "I never did like pickles…"

            "I'm glad you aren't claustrophobic," Ginny quipped, smiling gently at the unconscious girl in her arms. Raising her head, she called at the gawking students and teachers around her, "Hey, I could use some help here!"

            "But-but!" Ron stuttered, staring at his sister, "Only her True Love could save her!"

            She shrugged at her brother, smiling slightly to herself as Madame Pomfrey helped her up after placing Hermione onto a floating stretcher, "Stranger things have happened. And now," she turned, following her friend to Madame Pomfrey's, "I have stuff to do. Bye!"

            She disappeared out of the door.

            Harry and Ron stared at the empty doorway, and Ron repeated senselessly, "But…True Love…"

            Harry shook his head and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Ron, let it go. All questions will get answered later. Now let's see if we can find out HOW Neville got Hermione in there in the first place."

            Ron looked at him, his expression suddenly turning serious. "Yes, Neville," he advanced on the poor boy who tried to sneak into the corner, where, unfortunately, Professor McGonagall waited for him, "How DID you get her in there?"

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            There, did you like it? Wasn't it weird? Oh, and if you would like a sequel, just tell me in a review (or E-Mail: revolutionary_rose@hotmail.com) and I will do my best. Thanks! Okay, that's all. Bye now!


	2. Going Farther In

            Hi all! I've decided to write another chapter, and depending on my mood, I just might make this a novel or something. *lopsided smile* Imagine. All this from a random story idea! ^_^ Okay, I just want to thank some people for corrections and/or motivation. And they are:

            **starheart: for correcting me on PROFESSOR McGonnagal and MADAME Pomfrey. Thanks!**

            **Snake Eyes:**** for wanting more and being so adamant! ^_^ Thanks.**

            **Aderyn**** Du: for being the first one to review. That means a lot to me. ^_^**

            It's been a while since I've read the Harry Potter books, so please bear with me or tell me what I do wrong if I do some mistakes. That makes everyone happy!

            Oh yeah, I do not own any Harry Potter characters!

Hermione's Pickle

by

Utena_Anthy_Antics

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            Hermione wrinkled her nose. Ugh, she thought, why does everything smell like…? Words failed her, and she rolled over, bringing an arm up to sweep oddly bouncy bangs away from her face. Licking her dry lips, she grimaced when a faint after-taste of something…pickled, bombarded her tongue.

            "Great," she grumbled under her breath, "It wasn't a dream."

            "'Fraid not, 'Mione," a soft voice chuckled above her, and Hermione cracked open her eyes to see the evilly-grinning eyes of Ginny Weasley.

            "You mean I was actually in that pickle?"

            Ginny nodded. She lightly tapped her friend's nose, leaning in to whisper, "And because of that, you're going to smell like brine for a while."

            Hermione sighed, wiping her hand over her face. Looking up at the white ceiling of the infirmary, she sighed again, propping herself up on her elbows to sit against the head-board. "Is this the punishment I get for not feeding Crookshanks last week?" she moaned, rolling her eyes at her friend to try and get her to laugh.

            The younger girl did, her expression suddenly turning serious as she moved from her seat next to the hospital bed to slide herself over to sit next to Hermione, her head lolling back against the head-board. Crooking her lips into a smile at her friend, she shook her head, "I never would have imagined you in a pickle at all before this happened."

            "You think I would have?" Hermione asked, making her eyes wide and innocent. "Maybe I just woke up this morning and decided to get trapped in a pickle by Neville so my True Love could…" She trailed off, suddenly feeling a little nervous around the other girl.

            An uncomfortable silence permeated the room, neither of the girls daring to look at each other. It was broken only by the appearance of Madame Pomfrey at the door. She bustled in, seemingly ignoring the tension between the two. Hustling Ginny off of the bed and out the door – Ginny shot her a quick farewell grin – the friendly witch turned back and smiled brightly.

            "How's our patient?" she asked, whipping out her wand to make the sheets around Hermione more comfortable. Not waiting for an answer, she handed her a cup of water and urged her to drink, "I suppose you're thirsty now. We were able to get most of the pickle off of you, and even managed to wash your hair, but it was kind of impossible to clean out your mouth entirely. Brine DOES have a tendency to stick around."

            "We?" Hermione asked, accepting the cup and sipping thankfully. Her throat WAS a little parched, and the water helped soothe the scratchiness in her throat. That explained why her hair was bouncy; it always got fluffy when it was washed, she thought.

            Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Miss Weasley helped. In fact, she stuck around during the rest of classes to be by your side." Shaking her head, she put her hand against Hermione's forehead, clucking thoughtfully, "That girl really is a good friend. It's too bad what happened to her in her first year."

            Madame Pomfrey's words fell on deaf ears. For some reason, Hermione's heart beat doubled when the image of Ginny's fingers running through her hair to wash it, brushing against her scalp… She cleared her throat, and asked, "How did you wash my hair?"

            "Hmm? What, dear? Oh, a simple spell. I'm surprised you wouldn't know that. In fact, I believe it's in one of last year's books…"

            Hermione's agitation came to a dead stop. Of course, she thought viciously to herself, not truly knowing why she did, You're at Hogwarts, not home anymore! There would be no reason to wash your hair manually! Get over yourself, Hermione Granger!

            Truly ignoring the subject of her thoughts, Hermione sat back to let Madame Pomfrey check for any damage from the lack of air she had suffered. There was no way she was going to acknowledge the implications of what had happened to her. Ginny was her friend – and nothing more.

            "Hey, where are you going with Hermione's books?" the voice of Ginny's older brother spoke up from behind her. Turning to look at him, Ginny shrugged, adjusting her grip on the books.

            "I just thought she would like to catch up on her homework, that's all. You can't fault me for that."

            Ron sighed and shook his head, causing his red hair to briefly cover his eyes, "You're right. It IS a Hermione thing to want her books."

            "Good. Then I'm going."

            "Uhm, no, Ginny. I think you shouldn't." Ron lightly grabbed her shoulder and reached for the stack of books she was carrying.

            She furrowed her brow and moved back, out of the way of Ron's reach. "Why ever not?" she humphed, wanting to cross her arms and glare at her brother, but couldn't because of the books. "If it's because of the stupid True Love thing, you've got to be kidding. You don't actually believe it's true!"

            Her brother shifted on his feet, glancing uneasily everywhere but at her face. A slight blush heightened on his cheeks, and he mumbled, "But Professor McGonnagal said that…"

            Ginny rolled her eyes! "Listen, Ron, have you ever heard of ANYONE getting trapped in a pickle before?"

            He shook his head.

            "Than how do we know that it IS true that only her True Love could save her?? Couldn't it only be true that maybe the only reason I got her out was because I'm another female? Did you ever think of that?" Not waiting for Ron's reply, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the Gryffindor Common room, stepping out of the painting.

            Pausing for a second, the young girl closed her eyes and whispered, "I hope it's not true. What I just said; it's not true. There's no way McGonnagal could be wrong. Oh Ginny, what have you gotten yourself into?"

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            And I'll stop there. So, that ends Chapter Two of my now on-going story. Hope you enjoyed it!

            Oh yeah, side note. I think most of the chapters will be like this; i.e. little segments of time for both Hermione and Ginny. If you have any feedback or ideas as to where you want this story to go, please tell me! That would be much appreciated! ^_^ My E-Mail, once again, is revolutionary_rose@hotmail.com. See you later!


	3. More Denial...But Hey, That's Good...Isn...

            Hey everyone! I'm so glad you all like this story so far! Truthfully, I have no idea how this particular plot came to me, but hey, everyone has their weird days. Oh, and if you were wondering, the reason that I'm getting these chapters out so fast…is because of all of your great reviews! They are the things that keep me going! (i.e.:HINT! HINT!) ^_^ So yeah, if you like, please review, and don't forget, if there's any way you would like to see this fic continued, please tell me! ^_^ Thank you, and on with the fic!

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            Hermione sighed pitifully and flopped onto the bed, her face pressing into the pillow. Rolling over, she scrunched her eyes shut and pounded the mattress with her fists. 

            She HATED staying in bed for the whole day – I mean, sure, on any other day, it would have been a God-send, but just because she had gotten stuck into a PICKLE didn't mean she had to be flustered over like a little kid. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, work on an essay for Transfiguration class, go back to sleep, catch up on more homework, and then finally go to sleep to wake up in the morning and be able to go back to her classes.

            "The whole world's against me!" she cried, the only shining moment of her day was Ginny bringing her her books.

            When she finally composed herself, she rolled to her knees and grabbed the book on top of the stack on a chair pushed close to the infirmary bed; opening it, she crawled under the covers. Settling down to read herself to sleep, her eyes caught a roll of parchment tucked into the leaf of the cover.

            Pulling it out, she started to read. In Ginny's familiar handwriting, it read:

            Dear Hermione,

I hope you get better soon! We'll talk when you get better.

            Love, Ginny

            Hermione's eyes barely caught on the word love, and in the next instant, they skimmed over to where Ginny signed her name with a flourish. Smiling gently, she set the letter down into her lap, and brushed her hair back. At least SOMEONE cares about my grades other than me, she thought, and started flipping through the book, thoroughly intending to use the letter as a bookmark.

            Ginny chewed the end of her quill, nibbling almost guiltily. I KNOW Hermione told me to stop, saying that I would ruin my teeth that way – and I know that she means well, her parents being orthodontists after all, but I can't help it! she reasoned with herself. It's just like chewing your nails! Once you start, you can't stop! 

            Grumbling to herself, she suddenly slapped her quill onto the scroll she was writing in and gathered her stuff together. "Speaking of Hermione, I know she could help me with this essay. I think she would, seeing as she aced it last year." Turning to go, she almost walked into the shoulder of a boy looking at her.

            Growling, she halted, once again frustrated that she had her hands full. "If you too, Harry, don't want me to see Hermione, just because somebody spouted that only her True Love could-!"

            "Now hold on! I didn't say anything." The Boy Who Lived raised his hands, his green eyes almost twinkling behind his glasses, "People have been asking questions, haven't they?"

            Ginny rolled her eyes, almost shocked by his question. "Have they!?" she asked, "You should be one to ask! I can't go anywhere without people asking when the wedding bells are going to ring. I'm just sick of it. Hermione and I are only FRIENDS."

            Taking some of the books out of her arms, Harry started walking next to her, leading her from the Gryffindor Common room to the infirmary, engaging her in a conversation so random Ginny couldn't find herself but laugh.

            "Yeah, and when Professor Trelawney saw Ron copying down every word she said, she congratulated him on 'higher perception', not knowing that he was only intending to use it as fodder for his essay later that night. I even got some of my most juiciest 'predictions' off of her speech!" 

            "Ron truly did that?" she asked incredulously, a huge grin crossing her face.

            Harry nodded, a smile also crossing his face. Stopping at the door to the infirmary, he gently put his hand on her shoulder. "Ginny, you know Ron's only concerned about you. It's just a little bit…I dunno, WEIRD, to have everybody say that his little sister's True Love is his best friend. He's very protective of you."

            Ginny sighed, bowing her head a bit. "I know," she relented, "But I can take care of myself. After all, it's not like Hermione and I are secret lovers!"

            Harry stared at her, and she could feel an embarrassed blush rise to her cheeks. "Joke, Harry. Joke," she said quickly, clearing her throat and accepting back the supplies Harry had offered to carry. She escaped through the door, gratefully closing it behind her. Ignoring the surprised face of Madame Pomfrey, she leaned her head back and sighed thankfully. 

            "That's another thing you're going have to learn, Ginny my dear," she whispered to herself, "Not everyone appreciates your sense of humor." Shaking her head, she walked up to Madame Pomfrey and wheedled, "May I please go see Hermione now? I need some help on this one essay, and she's the only one who can help me!"

            Hermione looked up when Ginny kicked the door shut behind her. Raising an eyebrow, she asked the younger girl, "More books?"

            "No," the red-head shook her head, smiling sheepishly over the pile of books and scrolls in her arms. Shifting the stack, she made her way over and sat on the edge of the bed until Hermione moved the books on the only chair in the room. Setting down her load, she expelled her breath thankfully and shook her messy bangs back.

            "Whoof. No, I only came to ask your help on this particular essay for Transfiguration Class. I hope you don't mind the company."

            "No." Hermione laced her fingers together and propped her chin up. "As you can see," she motioned at the bed covers she was currently under, "I'm almost trapped here. Personally, I see no reason for making me stay in bed, but Madame Pomfrey's orders!"

            Ginny giggled, closing her eyes momentarily. "Yeah," she agreed, "For one who stocks a lot on classes and homework, I bet it's killing you to be missing a day of it."

            "Are you saying that studying and homework aren't important?" she said crossly, frowning at her friend.

            "No. I'm just saying, not everyone finds that homework is fun."

            "You've been hanging around your brother too much!" Hermione countered, somehow keeping her face straight as she stared deep into Ginny's eyes, her expression accusatory.

            Ginny was the first one to break. "Yeah, you're right! I HAVE been hanging around my brother too much!" she giggled, lightly tapping Hermione's shoulder, "Next thing you know, I'm going to be making up my Divination homework!"

            Hermione shook her head, her gaze traveling to her lap where her hands lay. Slightly curling them, she half-smiled, her mind working behind her expression.

            No… she sighed, I wouldn't want to endanger our friendship just to try something based only on hearsay. Besides, Ginny's only my friend, and nothing's going to happen. 

            Right?

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            And that's the installment of Chapter 3. I hope you liked it. Remember, feedback is greatly appreciated. I want to know what YOU would like to see. Thanks. See you later!


	4. The Confrontation Between the Good and t...

            Hey everyone! The reason this is a few days late is because I have finals, and those aren't very fun to study for! So I'm sorry if anyone was waiting too long (^_^) and I hope this chapter makes up for it.

            Oh, before I start, I just want to thank one person who really gets me to write these chapters, and I really appreciate their comments and ideas as to what should happen next. So…

            **fledge: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!**

            And on with the story!

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            Squaring her shoulders and self-consciously sweeping her hair back, Hermione took a deep breath. Hastily looking right and left behind the statue she hid behind, she finally grew satisfied with the lack of people walking to the Dining Hall. Tensing her legs, she dashed for the doors. Unfortunately, she misjudged the pull of gravity the stack of books she had in her arms had, and the amount of inertia it added to her person.

            In short, she fell, her books scattering around her. Lying with her arm pinned under her side, she finally mustered the energy to sit up and make sure that the only painful part of her was her ego. Taking a deep breath, she started to gather up her books, head down.

            "Yeah, like I knew this wouldn't happen to me," she grumbled under her breath as she reached for her Potions book, only to snatch her hand back. Moving her gaze up from the shiny black shoe – recently polished, she noticed – and black robes, Hermione came face to face, as it were, to Draco Malfoy and his evil grin. Crabbe and Goyle lounged at his side, equally evil grins on their huge faces.

            "Oh yes, I am liking this. A Mud-Blood, worshipping at my feet," he sneered, the light gleaming on his slicked back blonde hair, making it seem as if a sick halo surrounded his head.

            "Shut up, Malfoy," she snapped. With a quick grab and tensing of her muscles, she managed to harshly pull the book out from under his foot. Wiping it off with the hem of her robes, she almost slapped it onto the stack of previously collected books, not wanting to show the anger pouring out from her, but sadly not being able to.

            Malfoy sneered again, suddenly leaning down to grab Hermione's arm to pull her up. Moving his face uncomfortably close, he glared into her eyes, ignoring the arm that she brought up to smack against his chest. Goyle suddenly grabbed her arms, holding them behind her back. Crabbe stood off to the side, his shadow making everything even more harrowing.

            "You know…" he whispered harshly, making sure Hermione heard every word he was saying, "I don't appreciate people like you who make the Wizarding World weak and perverted. You people are sick."

            Hermione glared at him, her heart pounding in the back of her neck, making it hard to concentrate. Her hand curled into a fist that tore at his robes, but Malfoy, with the help of his two-person mob, quickly overpowered her.

            "You bastard," Hermione choked out, "You know if you do anything, you can get expelled!" 

            It was all she could do to keep a brave front up even as her knees, figuratively, were knocking against each other. There was nothing she could do - Crabbe and Goyle were effectively stopping all motion. Absently, Hermione wondered why Malfoy didn't use a spell to freeze her.

            "This is just a warning, Mud-Blood," he spat out, as if reading her mind. Without a warning, Malfoy nodded to his henchmen, and they dropped her. Her knees cracked against the hard stone walkway; she bit her tongue without even thinking about it to stop her cry. With her hands upon her knees, trembling and looking up from under her bangs, she watched as the Slytherin spat onto her Potions book and turned on his heel, strutting into the Dining Hall.

            Wrapping her arms around herself, the shaky girl almost laughed at herself, "You idiot, Hermione. Stop shaking. It's nothing. Nothing happened. He's just being the stupid git he always is. He wouldn't DO anything. Hermione, stop it!"

            But she couldn't stop. Malfoy had really scared her, and she was absolutely terrified of what he might do to her. He had already shown how, by just using brute force, he had already overpowered her. But what really scared her, was the fact that he was human. 

            And sometimes the scariest enemies are human.

            "It's not fair," she hiccupped, feeling tears burn at her eyes, "I'm just a normal human being. There's nothing different about me. I wish I had never been trapped in that pickle in the first place!! It's not fair."

            Wiping her eyes with a trembling hand, Hermione slowly grabbed her Potions book, wiped it clean with her robe, and got up on shaky legs. Head down, she swallowed her tears and headed back towards her room, intent on hiding in her bed and sleep. 

            Just sleep.

            Ginny frowned, peering at the entrance to the Dining Hall, her eyes frantically searching for the familiar face of her best friend. Something in the pit of her stomach told her Hermione was in trouble, but she ignored it, idly picking at her breakfast, pushing the sausage around with her fork.

            "Okay, that's it! I'm going to find Hermione!" Her fork clattered onto her plate, and she stood up, startling Harry and Ron who sat on each side of her.

            "What's wrong?" her brother asked, also setting down his fork, though it didn't make quite such a noise.

            Ginny looked at him, annoyance screwing her face. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to stop her or come along. "Nothing," she murmured, turning to go, "I just need to talk to her about some…feminine issues."

            "Ginny," Harry lay his hand onto her arm, effectively stopping her, "Tell us. What's wrong? Is something wrong with Hermione?"

            "Why do you care?" Ginny couldn't help but snap, her emotions boiling up inside of her as the urgency in which her mind telling her that something was happening to Hermione was increasing.

            Harry's eyes darkened slightly, but he nodded his head, acknowledging the stress she was feeling. "Ginny," he stated, "Hermione IS our best friend. Of course we're concerned with her."

            "But-!"

            Ron nodded, standing up.

            Looking at the impassive faces of the two older boys, Ginny finally lowered her head, the pull on Harry's hand slackening. "Alright. Something inside of me is telling me that Hermione's in danger. I just need to see that everything's okay."

            Ron and Harry glanced at each other, but finally Ron nodded, slowly sitting back down into his seat at the Gryffindor table.

            "Alright," he whispered, "Go." 

            Out of the corner, just as Ginny was about to turn, she saw Malfoy and his cronies enter through the double doors, an evil smile on the blond boy's face. As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned and looked her in the eye, his smile deepening.

            "Oh God," Ginny expelled her breath. "Oh God," she repeated herself, "Did Malfoy DO something?" She took off running, not caring that every stared at her. 

            Ever since the incident with the pickle, Malfoy had been the main antagonist and outright gay basher of Hogwarts, glaring at Ginny and insinuating horrid things she had done. He, Crabbe and Goyle delighted in making her life a living hell, treating her as they did Neville, though Neville was now ignored. Malfoy had even threatened to hurt her 'girlfriend', Hermione Granger, after she was released from the infirmary.

            It had been a week since Hermione's first class after the incident, and Malfoy hadn't done anything, so Ginny had hoped that he had forgotten or all the act was a bluff. 

            But something was telling her that it wasn't just an act, and that Malfoy HAD acted upon his threats.

            Her heart pounded in her chest, and a cold sweat started to bead on her forehead as she ran for Hermione's room.

            "Oh please God, let her be fine."

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            I'll stop there. Before you say anything, I believe, that if threatened like Malfoy did to Hermione, my reaction would be as intense as Hermione's. I am deathly afraid of any kind of physical confrontation, so I hope this was satisfactory to anyone reading this. It is sad that things like this actually happen to people in the 'real world', so I decided to fight back as I know how – to write.

            Okay, thanks, and again, if you have any comments or ideas to where this story should go, please review or reach me at revolutionary_rose@hotmail.com. I would appreciate any and all criticism, though I do react to flames, so please, not too harsh. Thanks. ^_^


	5. Why Does Love Have To Be So Dang Hard??

            Okay, before I make any excuses to why this is so late, and why it is so short, I want to apologize. I don't really have a great track record on FFN, but I DO try. I just had finals and a lot of personal things going on, so next time I hope to have the next chapter up soon. The only problem is… I'm leaving on a two week trip with my school tomorrow, and I won't have any computers and stuff, so it'll be at least two weeks until the next chapter comes. I'm incredibly sorry!

            Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

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            Ginny hurried through the halls, her feet making slapping noises against the stone floor. Hurriedly spitting out the Gryffindor password, she took the steps to Hermione's room two at a time. Pausing for a second, she gathered her breath and then knocked, rapping her knuckles against the door. Her heart beating so fast she thought her chest would erupt, Ginny knocked again, willing Hermione to answer as she knew she was in there.

            "Go away."

            Hermione's voice was soft and muffled through the oak of the door, and Ginny could just hear the edge of trembling brought on by tears. Frowning, her heart overrode her head, and she opened the door, glad that Hermione hadn't spelled it locked.

            The room was dark, the windows shuttered shut. Hermione was on her bed, her books splayed out all around her, some spilling off onto the floor. As she watched, Crookshanks stared back at her, cradled against the softly crying girl's head, a gentle purr rumbling through his body.

            Hermione sniffled, and Ginny softly approached her, a little bit awkwardly as she didn't know, really, how to calm anyone or cheer them up. Sitting softly at Hermione's side, she waited.

            Presently, Hermione's sniffles grew quieter, and she looked up, her red eyes just barely meeting the other girl's. "Why?" she whispered.

            "Huh?" Ginny asked, a little embarrassed that she sounded so out of it. Blushing for a second, she scooted backwards to lean against the wall, a tender look crossing her face. Idly, she reached out to pet Crookshanks, who yawned and offered his belly to be scratched.

            Hermione rolled over, staring blindly up at the ceiling. "Why am I being treated like a plague?" she asked quietly, "I mean, I didn't ask to be trapped in a pickle, and I certainly didn't ask to have everyone abuse me because my True Love was a girl-!" She choked, tears spilling over her eyelashes, trailing down her cheeks.

            Ginny's heart broke, and even though she felt it split in two at the other girl's words, she couldn't help but gather her into a hug. Turning her head away, she buried herself into Hermione's shoulder, tears pricking at her own eyes.

            "I understand," she murmured, "I understand. I-I'll leave. It's because of me that you're being abused. It's because of me that everything's happening. I'll just leave." And she broke and ran, deaf to Hermione's desperate call of her name, only aware of the overwhelming pain her torn soul gave her. 

            Tears washed over her, and she stumbled through the Gryffindor Common Room, ignoring the crowd of people returning from the Dining Hall. Ignoring the call of her brother and Harry, she left to find someplace where she could cry.

            "I-I thought that when I got her out of that pickle, everything was going to be all right – everything was going to be fine… How stupid can I be?? No. Stupid Ginny Weasley, no one'll ever love you, especially the girl you want…" And she curled up in a corner in an abandoned wing of Hogwarts, oblivious to everything but her pain.

            "Oh God, Crookshanks. What have I done? I didn't mean what I said, I was just upset! Ginny's my best friend… God, what am I going to do…?" 

            The named tom mewed reproachfully at his owner, giving her an accusing look as if to say 'You're fault, not mine; you deal with it'. Hermione glared at him, but then nodded, anguish visible across her features. Sitting up straight, she jumped off of her bed, and straightened out her robes, rubbing a brief hand over her eyes.

            "I've got to find her…"

            And, she too, ran down and through the Common Room, disregarding everyone in her path, Ginny the only thing on her mind.

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            I'm sorry this chapter is so short!! I just need to set up something, and hey, writing romance is hard, especially between two characters that actually don't have that much interaction in the HP books. Besides, I'm not a Harry Potter expert, so I'm trying my harder here! Please tell me how I'm doing! 

            So thanks. And see you in two weeks (more or less… ^_^)!


	6. Musings...and the Light at the End of th...

            She almost slipped when she rounded the corner. Gathering up her robes and messily pushing her hair behind her, she made her legs pump faster. 

            Oh God. Where would she be? Where? How am I supposed to know where she is? I mean… I don't really KNOW her, know her… Do I? But if I didn't, how come this happened? Oh God. Where is she???

            Hermione's heart beat harder, echoing along the inside of her head and racing along her throat, threatening to spill out of her side where she could feel a massive side ache starting on. Just a little farther, she urged. Just a little farther. I have to find her and…

            Hermione slowed, her forehead crinkling. Find her… And do what? What could Hermione possibly do when she caught up with Ginny? She couldn't very well deny that there was nothing between them. Ginny had run off because she thought that she was causing Hermione all the heart-ache.

            But wouldn't that have to mean that Hermione did care about Ginny? And, if, that possibility did come up, what would happen?  And did she really like Ginny THAT way?

            Leaning against a random section of cold, gray stone, Hermione stared into nothing, clenching her fists together until she could feel her nails pushing against the skin of her palm, seeking blood. Why was this so hard…? One question was pounding in her head, demanding to be heard:

            Would it be any different if Ginny was a boy?

            It was almost painful to admit that it was. 

            Hermione sank to the ground. She hugged her knees to her chest and thought back to everything that had happened in two weeks. 

            In that pickle…fainting in Ginny's arms, finding her as her True Love…waking in the infirmary…Ginny, ever smiling, coming in with the books Hermione desperately needed…avoiding each other almost painfully in the halls, yet denying anything was wrong…Draco confronting her…and then Ginny running after her, bolting, and now her mad dash after her. 

            Why can't everything be straight-forward, like the spells and potions Snape has us do in his class? Hermione thought, smiling ruefully, I can do THAT with such ease. But this was much more. Oh so much MORE…

            Hermione's head dropped, a headache starting at the base of her neck and working its way up to seize her head and crush it with her discovery. 

            She laughed. It was simple, really. All she had to do was catch up to Ginny and tell her she loved her. Then wait and see what would happen next; what Ginny's reaction would be. She was dreading that. Compared to Ginny's reaction, it would be such a piece of cake to just say:

            I LOVE YOU, Ginny Weasley. I love you. 

            Would you, could you love me back…?

            Getting up, Hermione brushed off her robes, dried her tears, and started off again, her steps surer now then they, possibly, ever were.

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            Hi! I'm back! 

            Just a couple of words: Two week school trip; Fanfiction.Net screwing up; Japanese classes at the City College and basketball at the High School;  suspension from Fanfiction.Net (don't ask); being grounded for a week from television and computer; week long Family Reunion. And here I am! I was just sitting at the computer, reading back over what I had written on Hermione's Pickle and just having finished reading Empress of the World by Sara Ryan, and BAM!! The idea for this chapter sprang up on me! I hope you liked it.

            Oh, and next chapter: Confessions and Teacher Interventions. 

            Hope you can put up with me for the long delay. Thanks, UtenaAnthyAntics. ^_^


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